FOWC, RDP & Your Daily Word Prompt

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Today I was unfaithful, I played away and I loved it, I saw things I’d never normally see and I bathed naked in the badness, I hope she doesn’t find out, and I’m hoping she doesn’t read this blog otherwise I’ll have some explaining to do.

Today readers I spent the morning with another wood, I left as normal with Benny and the Ministry, went for the normal walk through Shrawley Woods, said all the right things at all the right times, no uncomfortable pauses, no complaining about the stickiness of the paths, the rutting of the “it doesn’t matter” path on the home straight, she’ll never know. Avoiding the coffee I drove an hour and a half to the borders of Wales and Herefordshire, near to Hay on Wye, not a million miles away from the foothills of the Brecon Beacons, parked up and went to work, parking my car in a farm yard and walking a kilometre or so to reach my place of adulterous woodland shenanigans. Wellies on I splashed through cow-shit clear streams, snagged my works Hi-vis on numerous barbs crawling between barbed wire, hopped over a barbed wire fence nearly doing myself an injury in the process, the barbs caught, but I managed to pull my self up whilst pushing the wire down, no lasting harm done. The job took time, there were 3 sites I had to visit all on the woodland edges, the first 2 were dull and normal run of the mill. The third not so, and looking at the map before I drove out, gave me a chance to possibly relive my A-level, or GCSE Geography, I forget which. On this small third site, further inside the wood, I was hoping to encounter an old friend, long since shelved but not forgotten, something I hadn’t seen, ever I don’t think, apart from in Geography text books and latterly as Geo-porn (define that; One easily aroused by the erosion of truncated spurs for sake of personal enjoyment) photographs taken from the air in coffee table books, now in boxes at Mum and Dad’s house (don’t get me started on that issue).

Can you guess? No?

Today readers I saw a naturally produced OXBOW LAKE, somewhat of a holy grail for Geography nerds, and made a rhyme.

I saw an oxbow lake, it wasn’t a fake, it made me shake – with delight, but ultimately now feel dirty.

I was expecting to see enchanted emerald waters twinkling in the Winter Height Herefordian Border sunshine, the crescent shape visible and snuggling to the hill it envelops. But no, I did not see this, the sun was low and shining through the naked branches of oak and ash, and the self seeded messy and unkempt weed trees, surrounding the boggy ends of the oily black filled stagnant ditch, which didn’t really pass as the oxbow, if I was nearer to a road or a supermarket there would have been bottles of piss and shopping trollies embedded in the airless mud. 

Hey, I’ve seen one, doesn’t matter what you think, I can tick it off the list of things to do, which ebbs and flows as does my mood when I’m thinking about this list and thinking I really should write these things down, stuff gets tidied away, especially if we’re trying to sell the house, cleaning and tidying is going to reach critical mass pretty soon, and for the few days leading up to “dressing the house” selling the allegory, one which I will try hard to avoid buying into for too long, its just a phase, keep telling yourself this Mr T.

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Anyway, thats what happened to me today, in a field in Herefordshire, Dr S calls it Gods own country, and he’s an atheist.

 

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